


And The Waltz Goes On

by HyphenL



Series: Open For Business (Fills) [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: A little angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 05:07:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1456627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyphenL/pseuds/HyphenL
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt by ScorpioDream</p><p>Hannibal and Will are spending an evening in a session and Will is upset about something (perhaps he is realizing that Hannibal is the Ripper but doesn't want to turn him in). Hannibal decides to calm Will down by slow dancing with him in the middle of his office and telling him that he loves him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And The Waltz Goes On

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ScorpioDream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScorpioDream/gifts).



“You seem distracted today, Will.”

Graham avoided his eyes, but not out of the usual queasiness. He was fidgeting with a pen, his eyes shadowed by an odd kind of hurt.

“Yeah, hum. Maybe I am.”

Hannibal tilted his head.

As Will was not going on, he insisted. “Do you want to tell me what's bothering you?”

“No.”

Dr Lecter slightly leaned back in his chair, probably vexed.

Will started rolled the pen nervously between fingers.

“I discovered something disturbing about someone I really like” he finally said. “I don't know what to do.”

“Can I ask for details?” Hannibal replied gently.

“No. I... No.”

Will knew he was annoying his therapist by, seemingly, acting like a brat. “What would you do if, uh. You discovered Alana was doing something illegal?”

“Alana?” Hannibal repeated.

“It's just an example.”

“I suppose I would talk to her about it” his therapist answered. “Try to understand why she does it. Is it very dangerous?”

“It's the worst” Will sighed, glancing warily at Hannibal. “But I just can't... I just can't bring myself to hate them for it.”

Hannibal straightened, swallowing, looking slightly away as he did when something bothered him.

“If I... If I asked him, I don't know if I'll come out of it alive” Will added, looking up again, queasily but, also, testing. “I don't want to die.”

Hannibal seemed still and cold as a statue. He noticed that Will had voluntarily opened his vest, revealing the gun at his right side.

“Though I don't think he'd want to kill me” Will said, his gaze more piercing than wary now. “He'd probably want that just as much as I want him to go to jail.”

“Is this a friend you are talking about?” Hannibal asked calmly. He got up and when to put on some music. Maybe because he was nervous. Maybe to cover upcoming noises of murder.

Will got up too, arrived in his back, slowly. He felt the other tense. “The thing is, I can't trust him” he said.

The slow, gentle strokes of violins started playing in the air.

“What would you do?” he asked Hannibal. The other turned around.

“Would you care to dance, William?”

Will startled. “I... would not say now is the moment, Dr Lecter.”

But Hannibal extended his hand, and Will took it.

“A waltz by Anthony Hopkins, conducted by André Rieu. I find it adequatelly heart tightening” Hannibal said, gently sliding a hand at Will's waist. The younger man put his on Hannibal's shoulder. “I don't know how to dance.”

The other's head leaned in, brushing the dark curls down. “Just follow my steps” he murmured.

He showed him the movement, patiently teaching him how to waltz, until Will was comfortable enough to start spinning around in the office.

“So, is that your answer?” Will “Waltzing around?”

“Music soothes me” Hannibal replied, his hair tangled in Will's as their brought their foreheads together for the dance. “It clears the mind, leaving it open to enlighten decisions.”

Will tightened his grip on Hannibal. “Why am I still alive?”

Hannibal closed his eyes, a light smile on his lips, enjoying the music. “You are my friend.”

“I'm not your friend. I'm friends with my therapist; you –I don't know you. You're the person who's been giving me nightmares for the past few months.”

“You could get to know that person too.”

Will stepped closer, to press again the other's warmth. “I don't think I'll have the time” he whispered, and Hannibal heard the sirens of police cars in the street.

He didn't faze, going along with the hastened rhythm of the music, pressing his cheek to the messy, soft curls of Will's head.

“I care for you, William” he said. “I hoped we could be friends.”

“I wanted that too” Will answered. “I just can't... I'm FBI, Hannibal.”

Hannibal turned his head to look at Will, his curious brown eyes meeting the saddened blue ones with an eery tranquillity.

“I'm glad you're the one” Hannibal said. “No-one else ever saw me. They don't deserve the honour.”

“Catching you isn't an honour” Will replied quietly. “It's disheartening.”

Hannibal closed his eyes again, still softly smiling.

“Say it” Will told him.

“Say what, William?”

“Tell me why you won't kill me. Why you didn't, even when you knew I suspected. Tell me.”

“I care for you.”

“That's not enough.”

Hannibal didn't answer, so Will, switching his hands, took the other's waist, pushed him aside once, to break the rhythm of the dance long enough to take the lead. Hannibal seemed pleased.

They heard rumbling at the door.

“Do you love me?” Will asked.

Hannibal looked away.

“ _Do you?_ ”

The other closed his eyes. “Yes.”

Will smiled, guiding him around for a last, triumphant spin. Then he stopped, abruptly, and pulled Hannibal against him by the waist. He took the other's left hand, guided it underneath his vest, to the gun.

He didn't tell him it wasn't loaded.

“They might have a sniper” Will said. “You'll have to stand clear of windows.”

Hannibal leaned a little in, so the bangs of his hair would brush against Will' forehead. Will kissed him, and felt him smile. Then Hannibal reopened his eyes.

“Would you be my hostage?” he asked with amusement.

“I would love to” Will answered with a smile.

The waltz was still playing. 

**Author's Note:**

> > Send prompts here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1451776/chapters/3056608


End file.
